Cheating stories

These Chronicles continue the adventures of Jack Grierson, following from the 10 Chapters of Her Fiancé's Father.

*****

1."Judith!" My mother only used my formal name when she was angry. I sighed and wondered what I had done this time, as I went into her study. She swiveled around in her chair, unconsciously pushing her glasses up her nose and running her fingers through her blonde curls.

"Have you written the thank you note to Mr. Grierson for the piano he got you for your eighteenth birthday?"

I hung my head. She had been nagging me about that gift for weeks - it was not that I wasn't grateful, but I just didn't know what to say to him. It was just so awkward!

"I'll do it today, mom," I mumbled.

"You're always saying that! If you don't do it today, I will have them take the instrument back."

"I'll do it, mother," I said, dutifully.

"Come here," ordered Mom. I came up to her, not knowing what to expect. I was surprised when she ran her hand through my auburn, shoulder-length hair and patted my cheek. "I'm not mad at you, honey. You're my beautiful girl. Just do the right thing."

"Yes, mother," I said and bolted for my room.

"And put on some proper clothes!" she called after me. "Your top has so many holes that it doesn't even pretend to cover your bra. And I can see your panties through the rips in your jeans."

I had always been a bit leery of Mom's business associate, Jack Grierson. The very first time I met him was soon after my youngest brother, Evan, was born. It was at the airport, when my mom Trixie Ann was returning from a business trip. He seemed a little too familiar with her. When he put his arm around her, she was very uncomfortable and flustered - she even grew short of breath.

However, materially, he was very good for our family. He introduced my mom to so many new business contacts that she began getting big raises, bigger bonuses and huge sales commissions. She bought a new BMW 5-series for herself and an almost new Cadillac for my dad, Alan. I got the new piano AND my mom's old Volvo. Mom bought my brother Eddie a new top of the line game console.

Whereas before Mom had always been tight, now when she was in a good mood, she gave me lots of money to buy clothes and go to concerts. She was always buying presents for Dad and toys for Eddie and even for baby Evan. We ate out a lot at expensive restaurants. We took short weekend family vacations to exotic locales - Bermuda, Iceland.

The only thing that wasn't perfect was that my dad was still unemployed. Jack kept getting him interviews for excellent positions, and he even made it to the final round a few times. But in the end, nothing panned out. He was constantly worrying about money, but Mom ignored him.

2.It was now almost six months since Evan was born. My dad thought that his arrival was such a pleasant surprise, as he said to all of us that he had always been very careful with using condoms. But Mom convinced him that no birth control method is perfect. Dad was worried that the expense of this third child would really hurt our finances, but fortunately that was just when Jack helped Mom's career take off. Evan was in the best daycare center in town.

Mom had always had an hourglass figure - Dad found her full breasts and rounded hips extremely sexy and was always telling her so. However, Evan's birth seemed to galvanize her. She joined a very expensive gym and became obsessed with working out every day after work and even more on weekends. She would do an hour of an advanced step aerobics class three days a week, weight training on the other two days and on weekends she went for long runs. Many of her exercise sessions were with Jack. I could always tell when she had been working out with Jack, for she always came back dreamy-eyed, lightheaded and talking about how sore she was. Workouts with Jack seemed to always get her very tired, but into a very good mood. I quickly learned that I could get her to agree to anything when she was in this state.

She became toned and strong and looked sexy in a very different way. She spent every non-working moment in a sports bra, tights and athletic shoes. Men had always looked at her, but now we could not even go to the grocery store without men (and even some women) turning and staring at her, some very blatantly.

At first, Dad thought that her newfound fitness regimen would improve their togetherness, but sadly it did not. Whenever Dad tried to cuddle to Mom, she always pushed him away saying she was tired from her most recent workout. Sometimes weeks went by when I did not see them embracing. Even when she allowed Dad to kiss her, she was passive and it was like watching Dad kiss a mannequin. I began to find Dad on his computer late at night more and more often. When he wasn't home I scrolled through his history and found almost all his visits were to porn sites. He was clueless about Internet security.

Jack had just gotten Dad another interview today. Like most of these interviews, it was early in the morning, at 6:30AM. Dad was very hopeful this time, because Jack told him that it was with one of the executives in his company, a woman by the name of Farah Hojjat. They were to meet at a Starbucks downtown. Dad had to leave the house by 5:30AM to make sure he made it there in time. I dimly heard him thumping down the stairs and I was sure that Mom was still sleeping.

* * * * * * *

3.I got up and brushed my teeth as usual. I looked at my phone - it was almost 7:00AM - I was going to be late for school. My brother Eddie should have been on his school bus by now. I poked my head in to his room to make sure. As usual, it was a disaster: piles of clothes on the floor, dirty dishes and glasses everywhere and even the posters on his wall askew. Such a slob - his mess was there, but he was gone.

I came out into the hall again and I thought I heard something. It was a low moan, it came from my parents' room and it sounded like Mom.

I was eighteen and not naïve, but I was still a virgin. Heavy kissing and petting with my boyfriend Manny Slink was the sum total of my sexual experience. The farthest I had been was when he slipped his hand under my sweater in the darkness of the movie theater and squeezed my breasts through my bra. When he whispered that I had perfect tits, I was so proud I could burst. But the next time we were necking in my car, I stopped him when he tried to unhook my bra.

But I want to feel your bare nipples, he whispered plaintively.

I'm not that kind of girl, I snapped.

Of course, he kept trying. And I let him feel my breasts regularly. I even felt his hard-on through his jeans. But I never let it get any farther, no matter how much he begged and pleaded.

Nonetheless, I knew about masturbation. We had learned about it in Sex Ed at school and I had made tentative explorations of my body, mostly in my bed. I knew what orgasms were in theory, but I was never sure whether I had ever had one. Dad has left for his interview, I thought. Mom thinks she is alone at home. Is she really masturbating?

Curious, I padded to my parents' bedroom door. It was slightly ajar and I stood in the crack, listening.

Mom moaned again and now I heard her voice. "Ohh, ... that feels so good ... Ohh ... don't stop ... "

Gosh, I thought. Is she really talking to herself?

I knew that I should turn around and leave, but the pull of curiosity was too strong. I lingered, wondering about this side of my mom's life that was entirely foreign to me.

"Ohh ... I'm so wet ... you're making me so excited! Ohh! Ohh!!"

It was Mom's voice, but the words, the panting, the gasps! I had to see it. I pushed the door slightly and saw the bottom of my parents' bed. The covers were rucked up and I could just see Mom's legs, splayed around a man's body. A man! And he was going down on her! It was just like they told us in Sex Ed. My mouth went dry.

There was no going back now. I pushed the door a bit more and saw the whole bed. The door was behind the head of the bed, so Mom was facing away from me. She was wearing a shortie nightgown that was pushed up around her armpits. Her red panties lay on the floor by the bed. Just as I pushed the door, she arched her back and began to buck and cry out.

She threshed and bucked on the bed for a several long moments. I just stared at her passion, amazed at the intensity of her orgasm. This was nothing like the gentle sensations I brought on with my fingers in my bed. She caressed the full head of pepper-and-salt hair that was still at her crotch. Then the man raised his face and the penny dropped - it was Jack Grierson, Mom's business associate.

I was incredibly shocked. I should have read the signs - I had seen them working together and noticed the way he put his hands on her ass when my dad was not looking. With all her fitness workouts, she looked so different now, sleek and toned like Jack, not pudgy and soft like my dad. But she was still my mom and the thought of someone other than my dad fucking her, especially in my parents' bed, was just so WEIRD!

Jack began to kiss Mom's belly and work his way up. Her breasts were smaller now, but incredibly firm - I hoped mine were as firm! He let his thick tongue run around her nipples and teased them and sucked on them till they stood out thick and proud like pencil erasers. He went on, further up, kissing the choker scarf that she wore around her neck and finally finding her lips. Holding her by the nape of the neck, he put his other hand on his cock and guided it to her sopping cunt.

Looking at her firm, shaven pussy - I was learning so many things about Mom! - I realized that my own panties were damp. I was not conscious of when it had happened. But that realization paled in comparison to the sight of Jack's enormous dick. It was long and thick and veined - it looked more like a metal sculpture than a thing of flesh and blood. There was a bead of pre-cum on the tip and Jack rubbed it on Mom's clit, causing her to give out a stifled mew, for his thick tongue was still probing her mouth.

As he began to push into her, her vagina lips stretched and stripped back his foreskin, exposing a smooth purple cockhead. With the head of his dick lodged in her, he gave her a few gentle mini-thrusts, prompting more mewing. By now, I was feeling warmth deep inside me that stimulated the release of my feminine juices. My panties were soaked through and as they could no longer hold my wetness in, it began to leak down my upper thigh. With a deep sigh, Jack used his weight and steadily sank his entire length into her. He lay on her, fully encased for a few moments.

Very soon, he began to thrust into her, real thrusts now with a steady, driving tempo. The bed creaked in a steady rhythm with his thrusts, each ending with a wet smack as his mount hit hers. She rotated her hips around his thrusts, and even to my untutored eye, the way she immediately matched his rhythm indicated that he had been fucking her for some time.

My wet panties became so uncomfortable that I stripped them down to my ankles and stepped out of them. Mom was mewing so hard now that she was loud in spite of Jack's thick tongue deep in her mouth. In fact, she sounded so excited that it was hard to tell whether she came again or not. She sounded like she was cumming continuously for what seemed like ages. Then I came, surprising myself, because I wasn't touching myself or even trying to cum. My knees felt weak and I had to grab on to the doorjamb to prevent myself from falling.

Jack slowed and stayed embedded in her for a while. He counter-rotated his hips, increasing the friction with her rotations. He groaned deep into her mouth and shuddered, suddenly pounding her with three sharp thrusts. She was still mewing and now gave a little scream. They both slowed and stopped. He stayed on top of her, still encased in her. He'd ejaculated his load into her!

I was trembling, still unable to turn and leave. My own pussy felt warm and I was so horny! Jack slowly pulled out of Mom and rolled over on to his back beside her. His enormous member was shiny with sexual secretions. She snuggled up to him, put her arms around his neck and rubbed her breasts on his hard chest. They lay together, cuddling and kissing. I wanted to leave, but I could not take my eyes off them.

"I did the test," Mom whispered after what seemed an age. "I'm pregnant again. Evan is going to have a little sibling. You've bred me again, you stud."

"That calls for an encore," said Jack. "Give me a few more minutes to recharge and I'll fuck you doggie style this time."

"No need to wait," said Mom throatily. "It's been a while since you came. I'm sure you can get hard, but let me make sure."

I just gaped as Mom slid down on Jack's body, rubbing her tits on him all the way down. My friends at school had told me about the act of giving head. We giggled about it a lot and most of the girls claimed to have experience - they all talked about how cum tasted salty. But I had no personal experience and had never seen it before. So when Mom opened her mouth and began to lick Jack's semen-coated shaft, I was agog. Before my incredulous eyes, he grew erect again - he was so big that she gagged on him. When he fucked her doggie style, she buried her head in her pillow, but her cries were still loud enough that I could have heard them in my room.

* * * * * * *

4.I did not go to school that day. I was senior, it was my last high school semester and I already had my college admission, so it really didn't matter. I drove to the mall and hung around till ten. I was still horny and all I could think about was Jack fucking Mom. How could she do this to Dad? Was she just fucking Jack to get ahead in business? To think that Evan was only my half-brother! And now there would be another half-sibling! I hated Jack and Mom, but especially Jack! He'd ruined my life.

I wandered into Victoria's Secret and poked around. I took a package of three thong panties that were on the markdown rack - they were red on cream, navy on white and sheer powder blue. Closeted in the changing room, I closed my eyes and immediately visualized every detail of Jack's enormous organ, the veins, the smooth purple head. I could hear Mom mewing and moaning. I tried to stop myself, but my eyes stayed shut and I played the scene with Mom and Jack over again in my mind. By the time I resurfaced, I found that the clean panties I had changed into were sodden. I rummaged in my purse, but could not find any Kleenex. So I used one of the thong panties to clean myself up and dropped my own wet panties in the changing room trash bin.

I put on the thong I used to wipe myself and walked up to the checkout clerk. She was cool, dark blonde with slightly Asiatic eyes. As a cheerleader and one of the "popular" girls in school, I always dressed fashionably - what my parents called 'dressing like a hooker'. Normally I was not embarrassed at showing skin and my underwear. But this checkout clerk had such a perfect figure, that I felt she would find me wanting. My mesh top displayed most of my bra and the thong I had just put on showed through the strategic rips in my jeans. My heels clicked too loudly on the parquetted floor. I am always self-conscious about my nipples because they are longer than most girls and get very hard with the least bit of air conditioning. I had on a very thin, strapless, unpadded red-and-cream bra, so my nipples made very prominent pokies.

I handed her the two thong panties saying, "It's one of the three-sets from the markdown rack."

"I need to scan all three," she said. Her voice was bored, but she took very obvious notice of my projecting nipples. She looked rather well dressed for a checkout clerk - she wore a business suit was a plunging neckline and an ID badge on a lanyard with her picture and name, JULIA IVERSEN.

"I'm wearing one of them," I said.

"Well, you're going to have to take it off so I can scan it."

"It says there's a fixed price for the set. I've got the cardboard tag with the barcode right here."

"No, I'll still need to scan each one. Its for the inventory system."

You bitch, I thought. But there was nothing I could do. I went back to the changing room and fished out my old panties - but they were far too wet to wear. Curse you, Julia Iversen, I thought. I stripped off the thong and walked back to her commando. Embarrassment made my nipples even harder.

She took the three thongs and scanned each one. She pretended that the one I wore did not scan properly and turned it around in her hand as she scanned it again and again. Finally, she put all three in a bag and handed them to me.

She looked straight at me with her china blue, slanted eyes and said, "We don't appreciate our customers masturbating in the changing rooms." I stared back at her speechless, frozen into immobility. She leaned forward, cupped one of my breasts and ran a long fingernail over the protruding nipple. She whispered in my ear, "Darling, you've got delectable tits. If you need help getting off, my lunch hour is at noon."

Clutching my bag of thongs, I fled and drove home again.

* * * * * * *

5.Jack's Jaguar was still in the driveway and both Mom's and Dad's cars were there too. I used my key to enter and heard them in the kitchen. My mixture of emotions confused me. Jack was a disgusting adulterer, seducing and breeding my mother - not once, but twice! I wished he were dead. I was furious with Mom for giving in to him. But at the same time, every time I thought about them fucking in my parents' marital bed, it ignited a slow burn that descended to my nether lips and made them tingle.

I wanted to run up to my room and get cleaned up and put on some fresh panties. But Dad heard me at the door and called for me to come to the kitchen. I poked my head in and tried to make an excuse, but he insisted saying, "Just have a quick cup of coffee with us, Judy darling."

Mom was wearing a black and pink jog bra, a matching silk choker, knee length tights and cross-trainers. Dad was wearing his "interview" clothes - a white shirt with a tie and his nice slacks. Jack wore a polo shirt, baggy shorts and an expensive European brand of sneakers that I had never seen before.

Mom said she had been stretching and Dad poured me a cup of coffee. I sat down at the head of the table. There was an awkward silence.

"Well, I don't want to the party pooper," I said. "I'll leave so you can carry on with your adult talk."

"Oh, its not that, dear," said Mom. "Your dad was just about to tell us about his interview."

My ears perked up and I leaned forward on the table.

"Do tell, Dad. Were you great? You were really prepared for this one."

Mom was also looking at him expectantly, but Dad's eyes dropped to his coffee cup.

"I screwed it up," he mumbled. He made a fist and thumped the table by his cup, not hard, but just enough to make it rattle. "But I tell you, it was not my fault. I was prepared, I really was. But that Farah Hojjat, she messed with my head."

"Did she ask tricky questions?" asked Jack.

"No."

"Was she misleading? Did she ask about material not relevant to the job?"

"No," repeated Dad. He ran a hand through his hair. "It's difficult to explain. She's got short dark hair worn in a bob and an incredible figure."

"She is kind of cute," agreed Jack. "But what of it?"

"Cute! She's a knockout! She wore one of those very revealing business suits - a tight, short skirt and a jacket with no blouse. She left the top button of her jacket undone, so that every time she leaned forward to look at her notes, I couldn't help but get a complete eyeful of her lacy, red bra. Its not fair to dress like that at an interview."
"But Alan, you're going to have to deal with women like that in the workplace. You can't let your fantasies distract you."

"Well, listen to this then! Halfway through the interview, she reached inside her jacket, cupped one of her breasts and adjusted her bra." In his childlike way, Dad dropped his voice to a stage whisper as though that would prevent Mom and me from hearing him - he is so clueless! "At one point she dropped her pen and bent over to get it. She has this incredible ass, and with her skirt pulled tight over it, I could see every detail, no panty line!"

Jack did not reply and waited for Dad to go on.

"Needless to say, I don't think I made any sense at all. At one point she asked, 'Did you hear what I asked you?' It turned out I had said that the exchange rate of the euro depends on the price of beer! I could not think straight with her acting that way!"

"Everyone makes a few mistakes in an interview," said Jack.

"That wasn't all," said Dad. "She made some notes after I said that and then her phone rang. She took the call, right there in front of me and started talking in this honeyed tone, saying the most explicit things in her clipped British accent."

"Like what?" asked Jack.

"She said 'I'd love to get your ramrod one in my mouth right now, big boy. And after I've got you good and hard, I'd like to sit on you, get you really deep inside me. You drive me wild!' Then she mumbled, but it sounded like she was talking to someone named Jack. For a moment, I thought it might be you!"

"That is one of the funniest things I've heard," said Jack. "Of course, Jack is one of the most common names in the city."

"Yes, yes," said Dad. "I didn't think for a moment that it was you."

"Alan, Alan, don't be downhearted," said Mom. "Things always seem worse than they are. I am sure you did not do as badly as you think."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I got a text message as I pulled into the driveway. It was from Ms. Hojjat and it said, 'Thank you for coming for the interview, Mr. Peters. However, I do not think that there is a good fit between your skills and our needs.' So that's that."

There was a short embarrassed silence. Mom reached across the table and tried to take Dad's hand, but he pulled it away petulantly.

"Well, Alan, it is not all bad news today," said Jack, putting his arm familiarly around Mom's waist. "You will be happy to know that Trixie Ann is really hot stuff." Dad looked up and smiled proudly when Jack said this. "I've been forwarding her all this really technical stuff that our software engineers have sent across and she has put together detailed designs for patches and amendment protocols. You wouldn't think that she is just an English major with half an MBA's worth of night credits."

Under the table, Jack's hand caressed Mom's flat stomach and then slid under the waistband of her tights. She squirmed, but all she accomplished was to get Jack's hand deeper into her crotch. Dad couldn't see because he was across on the other side of the table, but Mom knew that I could see. I wondered if she would have squirmed if I had not been there. I felt my throat going dry and my nipples hardening again.

Mom managed to squirm free and walked over to the fridge saying, "I'm getting an carrot from the crisper, would anyone else like anything?"

"Just get the ice cream out for me," said Dad.

As she walked towards the fridge, I watched her tight ass carefully and could discern no panty line. Was she commando under her tights? Why wasn't Dad watching her? But he was trying to get Jack's attention about another interview. I felt sorry for him and my anger towards Jack flared up again.

"I'm going up to my room," I said, draining my coffee cup and rising.

"Wait," said Jack. I stopped and turned around. "Your Mom was telling me about how hard you are practicing on your new piano. I'd love to hear you play."

"Not now," I said curtly.

"Now, Judy, that's not a nice tone of voice," said Dad sharply. "Mr. Grierson has been very good to us. Without him, you wouldn't have that piano. Just play a little party piece. Then you can do whatever you want."

I looked over at Mom for support, but she was still mad that I hadn't sent Jack the 'thank you' note.

"Oh, just play a little piece and be done with it!" she snapped irritably. "Don't make such a big deal about it."

I shrugged my shoulders and led Jack to the living room where the new baby grand sat in the corner. As I sat down on the piano bench, Jack said, "Play Debussy's Petite Suite, please, Judy."

"I can't," I said, looking at him with irritation. "That's a piece for four hands."

"I know. I'll play with you."

"You play the piano?"

"Not like you, I didn't have lessons growing up. But I've been taking lessons the last few years."

"Oh, all right," I said. I hoped my irritated tone would get through to this disgusting man.

I sat down, ran my fingers over the keyboard and I felt Jack sit on the bench beside me. I began, just wanting to get it over with. The piece was thirteen minutes long. Just as the music swelled to fill the living room, he leaned on to my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Don't stop playing, but I saw you watching as I fucked your mom this morning."

I missed a few keys, but kept going to avoid my parents coming into the living room. You bastard, I thought.

"Your mom is a great fuck. You heard her say that I've gotten her pregnant, didn't you? That I've bred her for the second time?"

You are such a pig, I thought. I was playing the major hands and kept going. He entered with his left hand at just the right time.

"You liked watching, didn't you? I saw you take off your panties. They must have been very wet."

All I could think was - I hate you, I hate you. But I did not know what to say, so I just kept playing, louder and louder, hitting the keys with energy to cover my confusion. I was too nonplussed to recognize how well he was playing.

Then he cupped my right breast with his right hand whispering, "You have great tits. And a great ass. I bet you are a great fuck too."

"I ... I ... don't know," I faltered.

"You're eighteen. A young woman."

He kneaded my breast through my mesh top and thin red-and-cream bra. My nipples betrayed me again, stiffening and standing out proudly. He kissed my ear as he whispered, "My, my, look at those nipples! You've got to take off your bra and show them to me."

Now there was an interlude where he did not need to play for three full minutes. He took advantage of this to slide my mesh top up. He cupped both my breasts through my thin bra and kneaded adroitly. I don't know how to describe it exactly. He was rough, but he was adept. He was possessive of my body, but he looked genuinely happy as I began to pant. I could not believe that my nipples could actually get harder and longer, but they did. They got so they were almost painful. I was frightened, I knew I should stop him, but I had absolutely no idea how.

"Mr. Grierson," I gasped. "Don't - "

"Keep playing," he said. He had to play now and he released my breasts to pick up his part of the piece flawlessly. How could he stay focused, while he was driving me out of my mind? I knew I was playing worse than I had in years, but his playing was spot on. He was an excellent pianist; I could not believe that he had only been taking lessons for the past few years.

Finally, the piece reached its crescendo and ended. I immediately tried to get up and get away from this horrible man, but he held me fast with one powerful arm. His other hand drifted down to my lap. I panicked, remembering again that I was commando - I had no panties on! But it was too late, for he undid the button of my jeans and pulled down the zipper. His hand found my moist, naked pussy.

Insinuating his hand into my unzipped jeans, he drove two fingers into me. He pistoned me, while stimulating my clitoris with his thumb. My panting was beginning to turn into something far louder, when he twisted my head and kissed me. I felt his thick tongue in my mouth. It was far more aggressive than Manny Slink, my high school boyfriend. He probed and sparred, constantly looking for a response. I put a hand on his shoulder and another on his invading wrist, trying to push him away, but it was a losing battle. I learned now that exchanging copious amounts of saliva could be exceedingly erotic. He was getting me to a state I had never known before. My excitement began to befog my loathing for him.

His fingers continued to manipulate my clitoris, unaffected by my frantic attempts to dislodge him. With my inexperience, I could not last. I began to cum, mewing into his mouth like Mom. My whole body was convulsing and just at that moment, I remembered that Mom and Dad were in the kitchen. Somehow, it made me cum even harder.

Finally, as I wound down, I realized that I was drenched with sweat. My bra and mesh top clung to me. My pussy was wet all over again and now I had drenched the seat of my jeans. I disengaged myself and Jack did not hold me.

I grasped my bag of thongs and stood up.

"You're a beast and I despise you!" I hissed. "I'm going to my room to have a shower to cleanse myself. Then I'm going to put on one of these thongs."

I showed him the bag with Victoria's Secret prominently printed on the outside. I ran up the stairs, not quite believing what I had just said. I got to my room, expecting Jack to follow me and not quite sure whether I wanted him to or not. I shut my door, but did not lock it. I stood staring at it with my jeans still hanging open at my waist and my mesh top rolled up under my armpits. I had just had the hardest orgasm of my life on my piano bench. I am ashamed to admit that I even made up disgraceful scenarios in my mind of Jack saying, "Your Mom is a great fuck, but you are even better!" But the minutes ticked by and the door remained stubbornly shut - Jack did not come. I managed to convey my loathing to him, I thought. I had escaped his scandalous attentions.

But I was also frustrated. I masturbated hard in the shower and I did manage to cum. But it was a pale imitation of my eruption on the piano bench. And certainly nothing like the thorough fucking that Jack had given Mom in the morning. I told myself that I was relieved with my narrow escape. As the memory of my intense orgasm on the piano bench began to fade, I truly believed it.

* * * * * * *

6.The following days passed slowly. Mom left for work very early in the morning and came back late. She said she was very busy at work. One thing that did change was that I began to spy on my parents' bedroom. Dad was much more physically attentive to Mom now and it was only two days later when I managed to get a ringside seat.

The both excused themselves after dinner, saying they were tired - but neither of them was a particularly good liar. I waited fifteen minutes and then followed them up. I cracked their door open and was rewarded with Mom riding Dad in the 'cowboy' position. She was working hard, but was quite silent. In contrast, Dad was groaning. It went on for less than a minute and then Dad came. Mom remained on him, twisting her pussy on his cock that must have been softening. She did not look particularly satisfied.

That weekend, I got a package in the mail. There was no senders' address. I took it up to my room and ripped off the colorful paper wrapping. There was cardboard box inside. I used scissors to tear the tape and opened the box. The top layer was of very light tissue paper and underneath there was some beautiful lingerie. Beneath that, there was more tissue paper and some clothing. Below that was more tissue paper and there were shoes on the bottom of the box.

I took out each item and ran my fingers over them, gawking at the labels.

The lingerie consisted of a very expensive La Perla bra, red-and-cream like the one I was wearing when I had my piano bench tryst with Jack. There was a matching cream-colored thong with red trim, a St. Laurent red silk ribbon choker and Wolford Logic red stockings. There was a Medusa leather slit skirt with a reverse vertical zipper that closed by going DOWN from the waist to the top of the slit. There was a gauzy chiffon Hermes sleeveless blouse. Finally, there was a pair of Christian Louboutin sling-back pumps with oh-so-cute bows and spike heels.

I locked my room door and stripped off my clothes to immediately try on my new finery. The bra was a 32B - just my size - and it was a demi. The frilly tops of the bra cups were cut well below my nipples. I pulled on the panties and stockings, zipped on the leather skirt and draped on the chiffon blouse, but left it unbuttoned. Finally, I tied on the silk choker, slipped on the shoes and looked at myself in the mirror. I cupped my breasts with my hands and my sensitive nipples grew hard.

"How do you do, Miss Fifi la Rouge," I said to my image in the mirror with an exaggerated French accent. "You are looking sexy tonight."

I was about the throw away the package when I saw that I had dropped a card on the ground. I picked it up and read, 'Hope you like the clothes - they're a small recompense for the pleasure of playing the piano with you. Do send me a selfie when you wear them. - Jack.'

I am a shopper and I know clothes. The La Perla bra and thong were from the Soutache collection and cost over $500, the St. Laurent choker was about $300, Medusa leather skirt about $1000, the Hermes blouse over $2000 and the Christian Louboutin shoes were another $1000. Jack had sent me almost $5000 worth of clothes! I still hated him, but now I felt indebted to him. I should send all this stuff back and tell him to go to hell, I thought. But I ran my fingers over the cups of the La Perla bra and down on to the soft leather of the Medusa skirt. It was so pretty - fancier than anything I owned, even with Mom's largesse. Sending him a selfie was a small price to pay for keeping the clothes.

I buttoned up the Hermes blouse and put my phone on a selfie stick. I took a few quick shots, examined them and sent him the one with the best centering. I looked at again after I sent it - I was pouting and my lips looked full. My aureoles were faintly visible through the sheer chiffon. My nipples made clear indentations in the thin Hermes blouse. I clicked my tongue in irritation, but I was secretly quite proud of how sexy I looked.

Just then my cell phone buzzed insistently indicating incoming texts. I swiped the screen - there were two messages. One was from Jack with a single word, 'Thanks'.

The other was from my boyfriend, Manny Slink.

'Babe, need a ride to town to see a man about some stuff. U drive me?'

'Sure,' I texted back.

I was too excited by my new clothes to consider changing. I told Mom and Dad I was going over to my friend Laura's to study and would be back home very late. Then I texted her to alert her in case my parents called.

I met Manny my freshman year, just after I made the cheerleading squad. He was in my year and was then the junior varsity quarterback. We were friends, but had only started dating as seniors. By now he was the high school starting quarterback and I was quite flattered when he showed an interest in me.

Like me, Manny was eighteen. He lived with his mother, who was black. She did not have a job and I assumed she was on welfare. Manny had never met his father, but he told me that he was Puerto Rican. This made sense, because although he had typically black, frizzy hair, his skin was quite light.

Although it was glamorous to be the girlfriend of the starting quarterback, I quickly learned that Manny was rather dumb. When all of us in the senior class were getting our college offers, I found out that he was not that talented a football player either. He finally got a scholarship from a small two-year college in the middle of the state. He made a big deal about it, but after four years as a cheerleader, I knew better.

My parents hated Manny. That made him much more attractive to me and made me stick with him. We would be going to different colleges at the end of the summer and I assumed our relationship would end naturally. Manny impressed the other "popular" girls, so he was a convenient boyfriend for the time being, but I knew that I did not want to get serious about him. I guess that is why I never let him fuck me - or even get his hands in my panties.

Even in the short time we had been dating, Manny's mom had gone through a couple of boyfriends. Manny did not talk about them, but I got the feeling that his mom's boyfriends did not like him around the house. So Manny spent a lot of time with his cousins in the ghetto.

He never had much money and was constantly "borrowing" from me. However, from time to time, he sold weed and crack in school. Then he always blew everything he made, taking me out dancing to The Shake Shack, the local teen hangout.

I drove over to Manny's place. He lived at the other end of the school district, a much less prosperous part. I pulled up outside the rundown duplex and Manny came running out as soon as he saw the car. He slid into the passenger seat and said, "Can I drive? I know where we're going."

"No," I said shortly. "You don't have a driver's license."

"Oh please, babe ..."

"No," I said firmly. "Just tell me where you want to go."

"438, Post Avenue," he said petulantly. "I'll tell you how to get there."

I knew that it was a bad part of the city, but I did not bring that up. I had dropped Manny off in places like this before. Part of me felt sorry for him. We drove in silence, for apart from football Manny never had much to talk about.

We got to Post Avenue and I slowed down, looking for numbers. All the streetlights were out and it was very dark.

"Just drive, I know where we're going," said Manny.

I kept driving slowly, squinting as I tried to find some house numbers. Then all of sudden there was the roar of a powerful engine and the screech of tires. A big Hummer SUV pulled out of an alley and skidded to a stop right in front of me. I hit the brakes and brought the Volvo to a halt just before hitting the big vehicle in front of me. Several muscular young black men poured out of the Hummer and surrounded my car. Manny's door was opened and he was forcibly pulled out. A flashlight shone in through my window, blinding me momentarily.

"Hey guys, I was looking for my cousin, Jamal, ..." began Manny.

"You better pay me what you owe me first, motherfucker!" The voice was deep and very angry. It belonged to whoever was holding the flashlight and I could not see him behind it.

"DeSean!" said Manny. "I'll give it to you right away. My girlfriend has it in the car."

My hand flew to lock my door, but it was too late. My door was wrenched open and I was dragged out of the car. One of the men held my arms in a powerful grip and pinioned my body. Now more flashlights were illuminated and I saw more of scene. There were four young men wearing sleeveless muscle shirts and they crowded around Manny and me. The one Manny addressed as DeSean was the biggest - he was at least six foot six and built like a bull. His biceps were bigger than my thighs. Manny was not small, but DeSean made him look puny.

He strode up to me. He was so tall that I had to crane my neck upwards to look him in the face.

"You got my money, you honky ho?" he asked. His words were rough, but his tone was not.

"I've got ... I've got some money in my purse," I faltered. "It's in the car."

"Let her go," said DeSean and I was released. He pointed into the car. "Now be a good girl and get me my money. Then you and this retard Manny can go back to the burbs where you belong."

I reached into my open car door and got my sling bag purse. I pulled out my billfold and counted out what I had. Mom had just given me money, so I thought I had a lot.
"I've got $300," I said. "How much do you want?"

There was silence. All the men stared at me and I froze, more frightened now than I had been before.

"You bitch!" DeSean's voice was like the crack of a whip. "You think you can make a fool of me?"

He grabbed my purse and billfold. He went through the billfold and then emptied the contents of my purse on the street. My makeup mirror shattered and my glass vial of nail polish remover smashed.

"Oh, please don't do that!" I cried in dismay.

He held up the wad of twenties from my billfold. I looked at the money and then at the surrounding black faces. They were all smiling broadly. Somehow that made me even more scared. DeSean turned slowly to Manny.

"What did you think you were doing, bringing this chickenshit amount of money?"

DeSean splayed the bills and gently lofted them into the air, letting them scatter in the street. The other men went down on their knees and collected them. In short order the money was gone, pocketed by DeSean's men.

"Oh, please," I cried. There were tears in my eyes now.

"DeSean, I brought the money as a down payment," said Manny, speaking fast now. "But I brought Judy for you too. You can have her."

"You've got to let him have you, you bitch! You've got to let him fuck you!"

I looked over at DeSean. He had crossed his massive arms and he was now grinning broadly. He looked me up and down, undressing me with his eyes.

"You may have something there, Manny," he said, thickly. "Now that I look at her, she's one hot, sexy ho."

"And she's a virgin, bro!" gibbered Manny. "You can take her cherry!"

"You mean you didn't do it already?"

"She wouldn't let me," said Manny, a note of viciousness coming into his voice. "She's a fucking cock tease, always dressing like a ho, but never putting out. She never even let me get my hands in her panties."

"Better and better," said DeSean, licking his lips. "I didn't think there were any eighteen-year-old virgins left in the world."

He came forward slowly, a step at a time. I stared at him with a deer-in-headlights look. When he moved, it was so sudden that I could not even begin to react. His left hand shot forward and he caught first one wrist and then the other, holding them together in a vice grip. I fought him, but I might as well have tried to move a semi-truck. With contemptuous ease, he raised my arms and trapped my wrists behind my head on the roof of my car. This arched my back and made me thrust my breasts forward. He ran the thick, meaty fingers of his right hand over the swells of my breasts through the thin chiffon.

"You have wicked cool tits," DeSean whispered. "Are they real?"

I nodded, too frightened to disobey him.

"No surgeon could make tits like these. Has Manny been pawing at them?"

"You're a sexy, hot ho! I can't wait to push my big cock into your tight virgin cunt! Popping your cherry will get me off right away. Then I'll get you to suck me and I'll fuck you again, real slow!"

He cupped my breasts one at a time with his huge right hand, still holding me arched over the side of my car with his left. He felt my nipples through the thin chiffon. They betrayed me straightaway, puckering up and standing out. He unbuttoned my blouse, one button at a time, till it was open to my waist. He spread it open and licked his lips again as he saw that my nipples and aureoles were bared by my demi-bra.

He ran a finger and thumb over my nipples and they got even harder, standing out like little pencils. His eyes grew wide.

"Sugar, look at how big your nipples are swelling! I've never any that long! You're one wicked ho!"

"Oh my God!" I wailed. "What are you going to do to me?"

He leaned forward until his lips were just an inch from my ear.

"I'm going to FUCK you, honey child. I'm going to shove my big, black dick deep into your pretty, pink pussy. Then I'm going to fuck you in the ass. And I'm going to do it again and again, till you don't know if it's day or night."

He tweaked my nipples gently at first, but them harder and harder till it became so painful that I cried out each time. He seemed to enjoy my little screams. Then he leaned forward and the next time he pinched my nipple, he covered my mouth with his. My scream was abruptly muffled and his thick tongue entered my open mouth. I tried to twist my head away, but the force of his neck was too strong. I felt like I couldn't breathe and began to hyperventilate in my panic. It made my breasts jounce, even though they were flattened against his hard chest.

Just when I thought I was going to pass out, he broke off the kiss and let me come up for air. I gulped it down in great gasps, and he seemed to enjoy my quivering breasts, for his kneaded them roughly, resuming tweaking my nipples again. I knew that they would be severely bruised by the morrow, but I didn't think about that just then.

He ran a finger along my ribbon choker and said, "Manny brought you all dressed up, even put a bow on you!"

"Once you go home, you'll call your local cops. And then I'll never see my money. No, I think I'll keep you and fuck you for a few days. I'll fuck you till I get the $5000 out of your ass."

He reached down and got the zipper on my Medusa skirt. He slowly unzipped it upwards from the slit all the way to the waist. He left the last few teeth of the zipper engaged and put his thick right hand into the open skirt seams between my legs. He ran his fingers along the lace tops of my red stockings, and then on to the bare skin of my inner thighs, almost to the edge of my thong, teasing me. My breathing grew short - I thought it was fright, but there was also some excitement. He ran a finger lightly along the smooth fabric of my thong and said, "What did I tell you? I can smell your sex, you hot little ho!"

"Oh, please let me go!" I whined. "Please don't rape me!"

He cupped my pubis in his massive hand, massaging my clit through the thin thong. I gasped. I did not know what was happening to me, but my legs seemed to grow too weak to support me. He was holding me up with his massive left arm pinning my arms to the roof of my car.

"You want it, ho! You want my dick!"

"No, no, no," I wailed.

Then I heard the squealing of tires. Many things happened at once. DeSean let me go and I sank down to my knees, unable to stand. Several of DeSean's men drew guns and he pulled one out himself. They all shone their flashlights in the direction of the car that had appeared. In the light of flashlights, I saw that it was Jaguar. The door opened and Jack got out. He shot his cuffs and put his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Having fun, boys?" Jack asked.

"Get back in your car and beat it, honky!" said one of DeSean's men. "This ain't none of your business."

"Yeah, stick around and you'll be sorry," said another.

"Let's see, there's four of you men and you've got a teenage boy and girl. Seems a bit unfair, don't you think?"

"I know you," said DeSean advancing on Jack. He was so big that he even looked down on Jack. "You're Jack Grierson. You're always in the gossip sheets, squiring some actress or model. You better get back to your world, pussycat, or this big, bad dawg is going to bite your head off."

Jack's hand came out of his jacket with a gun. It had a long sausage shaped silencer on the end of the barrel. He did not say anything further, but fired quickly four times. There were just muted coughs from Jack's silenced gun. Suddenly, DeSean and all of his men were lying in the street, yelling. Jack advanced on each and kicked the weapons out of their hands.

"When you pull out a gun, use it, don't wave it around," said Jack after he had disarmed all of them.

They slowly go to their feet, clutching their arms to stanch the flow of blood. Jack had shot each of them in the arm, preventing them from using their guns. A couple of them looked like Jack's bullets had smashed their elbows. It was their turn to whimper now. DeSean was the only one who was not cowed.

"I'll find you, Jack Grierson," he said viciously. "I'll bring you back here to my neighborhood and cut you to pieces! All the cops here are mine, you won't have a chance!"

Jack pointed his gun at DeSean.

"We'll be watching you, DeSean," said Jack. "24 - 7 - 365. Me and my friends in Black Ops. You endanger me or anyone of mine and we'll take you out and feed you to the fishes. No one will find your body. Now get in your Hummer and take yourselves to an ER."

They sullenly got into their vehicle, some of them still sobbing with pain. Jack watched them drive away before coming to me. He raised me to my feet, but I was still too shaken and I fell against him. I held on to him and began to cry, deep, gasping sobs that made my whole body judder. He held me without speaking and I felt the hard, still-warm gun barrel in the middle of my back. I tried to take step, but my knee collapsed, unable to take my weight.

Without a word, Jack scooped me up in his arms and carried me around to the open passenger door of my Volvo. He slid me in and I lay back, closing my eyes. My chiffon blouse was still open and my demi-bra displayed the upper swells of my breasts and my nipples. My skirt was still unzipped almost to my waist, showing my stocking tops and my thong. But I did not care, I just lay there in the passenger seat, trying to get my panicked breathing under control. Jack picked up my things, put them in my purse and brought it back to the car.

"Get in the back, Manny," said Jack. "I'll drive you both home."

Manny quietly got in the back and Jack got into the driver's seat.

"What about your car, Jack?" I asked, as he put my car in gear.

"Don't worry, one of my staff, Julia Iversen, was in my car with me. She'll take care of it for me."

In my fogged state, my mind made strange connections.

"Julia Iversen! That was the name of the checkout clerk that I dealt with at ... "

"Yes," Jack smiled. "I had Julia keeping an eye on you. She stood in for the clerk at Victoria's Secret."

"How did you know where to find me tonight?" I asked, as Jack began to drive.

"When you sent me the selfie and I responded, I implanted a GPS app on your phone. So I knew you were here. I figured I should come by and take a look to make sure you were OK. I'm glad I came."

"You took an awful chance shooting at them!" I said. "There were four of them!"

"They're just a bunch of punks. The taxpayer put a lot of money into training me at Army Special Forces. The odds were in my favor."

We did not talk any more till we got to Manny's house. Jack's hand rested between my legs up my open skirt. His palm rested on the inside of my upper thighs. I did not push it away, but he did not do anything either.

Manny left without saying goodbye to either of us. I did not look at him as he left and did not look back as we drove away. As far as I was concerned, he was history. I never wanted to see him again.

We got to my house and Jack pulled into the driveway. We both got out of the car and Jack handed me my keys. I zipped up my skirt and buttoned up my chiffon blouse.

"I did not thank you for the clothes," I said. "They are beautiful."

"You look ravishing," said Jack, with a slight bow. "The photo you sent was payment enough."

I blushed and hoped that he could not see it in the dark. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the light in the living room was on. The curtains were parted and there was a silhouette that looked like Dad. He always waited up whenever I was out late.

"How are you going to get home?" I asked.

"I'm not," he said. "I'm going to stay with you."

He took me in his arms, but this time I tried to push him away. I felt his huge erection through his pants - its heat pulsated against my belly through the thin chiffon of my blouse.

"Don't do this, Mr. Grierson. If you force yourself on me, you're no better than DeSean."

"I never claimed to be a better man than DeSean," said Jack. "Just a tougher one."

"If this is what you are going to do, I wish you had never come!" I said, trying to keep my voice down. "I'd rather be raped by DeSean than by you!"

That stopped him.

"Why?"

"Because I hate you, Jack Grierson! You've been fucking my mother for over a year and bred her. And now with Evan still a baby, you've bred her again! Your very touch makes my skin crawl! You've ruined my family, you have no morals, no feelings!"

I spoke in a harsh whisper. I glanced over my shoulder - Dad was still in the window.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," said Jack. "I'll walk you to your door."

I turned and walked quickly, but he moved fast and was by my side. His hands were in his pockets in an attempt to conceal the tent that his erection made in his pants. I used my key, opened the door and let myself in. Jack held the door open and followed me in.

Dad was in the living room in his pajamas and came towards me. Then he saw Jack behind me and stopped abruptly. He took in my attire.

"Wow, Judy, you look, um, a bit racy," said Dad. "And what brings you here so late, Jack?"

"What's going on?" Mom came down the stairs, tightening the belt on her Balenciaga black silk dressing gown. It was a shortie and only came down to mid-thigh. She had open-toe espadrilles on her feet. She wore a red St. Laurent ribbon choker that was identical to mine - it was too much of a coincidence - Jack must have bought it for her.

"I had a little trouble in the city," I said quickly. "Mr. Grierson came by and gave me a hand."

"What sort of trouble?" asked Mom.

"Umm, some of Manny's friends, ..." I began. I paused trying to think of what to tell my parents. "They were getting a bit out of hand," I finally said lamely.

"I've told you a million times to stop taking Manny Slink to the city!" exclaimed Mom, stepping off the stairs. She came up to me, ran her fingers through my hair and kissed me on the forehead.

Jack came up and put his arms around Mom's waist possessively.

"Judy didn't do anything wrong," he said. "But Manny's a worthless scoundrel - he got her into trouble and he'll do it again unless she drops him."

Jack held Mom tightly. I knew that he was grinding her ass against his big erection. She held his wrists and attempted to disengage but she did not try very hard. She swiveled her hips like a lap dancer, to allow his hard-on to settle in between her ass cheeks. Then she then undulated up and down. It was a very subtle simulation of a doggie style fuck. Jack slipped one hand inside the seam of her silk dressing gown and I was sure he was kneading her pussy. He moved the other hand up to cup the bottom swell of one of her breasts. Mom's eyes grew a bit glazed.

"I wanted to bring Judy home safe," said Jack. But his low tone seemed to say that he wanted to do something quick different to Mom.

I could not believe that they were carrying on like this right in front of Dad and me. I glanced over at Dad. I was shocked to see that there was a modest bulge at the crotch of his pajamas - he had a hard-on!

"Thanks for protecting her and bringing her home," said Mom in a breathy tone more suited to the bedroom than the living room.

I could not take it any longer. I quickly walked up the stairs and rushed up to my room without looking back. I looked at myself in my full-length mirror and found that I was panting. My breasts rose and fell under my sheer chiffon top. I unbuttoned the top one button at a time, until it hung open. I stared at my demi-bra and ribbon choker. As I watched myself, my nipples puckered up and hardened. I tried to regiment my breathing, but it only seemed to make me more short of breath. I panted, unable to comprehend my mix of passions.

Was Jack going to fuck Mom right there, in front of Dad? How appalling that would be! But why was it making me excited? I felt the tightness of a hostile emotion but could not understand what it was. Was I angry at Jack for how he had turned my life upside down? At Mom for becoming his brood mare? At Dad for becoming so utterly emasculated?

I cupped my breasts and teased my nipples. I thought of DeSean and instead of fear, now I felt heat slowly building in my groin. I thought of Jack taking me away from DeSean - to be his prize. Two stud bulls, fighting over me!

And then I thought of Mom, feeling Jack's huge erection between her ass cheeks through her thin silk gown. Realization dawned slowly, but surely. I recognized my hostile emotion for what it was - jealousy. I was sure Jack was going to fuck Mom tonight - but I wanted him to fuck me.